


Knelt Before

by Yashitsu



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bondage, Masochism, Other, Rough Sex, Sadism, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, gender neutral reader, no pronouns for reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 23:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18418208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yashitsu/pseuds/Yashitsu
Summary: "My dear ____, I'm afraid you don't fully understand the situation you're in. Your 'king' isn't coming to save you. No one is."Ardyn corners the reader. From there, things go downhill fast.





	Knelt Before

**Author's Note:**

> My gift to all the other Ardyn thirsters out there. Hope you enjoy. No pronouns are used for the reader and their body is not described. ____ stands for the reader's name. (I don't like using Y/N because I hear it as "why-en" in my head lol)

This is bad. This is bad, bad, bad. That's the only thing going through your mind as you round yet another corner, every hallway looking the same. You don't quite know how it got to this point, how you ended up alone, with no access to the Armiger, but you really, really don't like it. You have to get out of here and find your friends, find a weapon, _something_ that will make you just a little less vulnerable to the daemons prowling this place, before one of them finds you. Or even worse, before--

"Going somewhere?" Ardyn's voice sounds from behind you. Before _that_. Before _he_ finds you. Too late. You turn to face the Accursed, breath coming too quickly, barely keeping down the panic roiling in your gut. He's standing casually in the middle of the hallway, a hand resting on his waist and a lazy smile on his face. You know better than to trust any of it. "And after I've been such a gracious host. Do Lucians have no manners?" You have no idea what the hell he's going on about. You decide not to dignify his words with any response other than a quizzical stare. Ardyn cocks his head to the side. "Oh, come on now. Surely you noticed how none of the daemons bothered you?"

"Besides you," you reply.

"You wound me, ____." Ardyn says your name with far too much familiarity, his tone sickly-sweet, as if you're friends, no, as if you're lovers. It makes your stomach turn. He takes a step toward you and you try to step back in response, but you find that your feet won't move. When you look down, you see that the shadows around your feet are darker and thicker than they should be. With a jolt of terror, you realize that Ardyn is holding you in place somehow. You try your best not to tremble as he continues his walk towards you, formulating the best plan you can manage given the situation you're in. As soon as Ardyn steps close enough, you strike out with your fist, hoping to catch him off guard enough to get the chance to run away. However, before the hit can land, your arm is stopped in midair by something holding your wrist back. Looking at it, you see that there's some sort of shadowy black tendril wrapped around your wrist. You shout in surprise and try to wrench free of the thing's grip, but it's far stronger than you and you merely end up with your arm yanked behind your back, your other arm soon following. With a harsh tug, the tendrils binding your arms send you crashing to the ground, and you cry out again as your knees painfully hit concrete. More shadows snake atop your thighs, holding you down. You're defenseless, nearly immobile, and all you can do is look up at Ardyn. He's always been imposing, but it's far starker from this angle. He's gazing down at you with the same smile as always, but something about his expression seems so much more threatening than usual. Whatever he has in store for you, it isn't good at all. You want to be the strong Crownsguard you were trained to be, want to fight this monster of a man in anything and everything he may do to you, want to be fierce and angry and defiant, and you are, to an extent, but far more than that, you're terrified. Ardyn is looking at you like you think a cat probably looks at a mouse it's caught and is about to torture, and you feel small and unprotected and very, very powerless. In desperation, you do the only thing you can; you yell for help. If someone would just hear you, maybe you won't have to face whatever it is Ardyn wants with you. You shout for anyone, for Gladio, Prompto, Ignis, _Noct--_

Ardyn's expression darkens when he hears you call your King's name.

" _Noct?_ " He repeats slowly, your friend's nickname sounding utterly wrong coming from _him_. "My dear ____," --you shudder at the endearment-- "I'm afraid you don't fully understand the situation you're in. Your 'king' isn't coming to save you. No one is. I've ensured that we won't be disturbed for a _long_ while." Ardyn crouches down and brings his face close to yours, preventing you from flinching away by placing a hand on your back. His voice is soft, almost gentle as he says, "You are _mine_ to do with as I please." You jolt violently away from him as best you can at that. You do _not_ like where this is going. Ardyn stands back up, laughing cruelly. "So, just my words offend you that much?" He mocks. "Then it seems this really will be entertaining." At that, you feel something--multiple somethings, really,-- begin to brush against your limbs. You don't have to look to know that it's more of the same solid shadows that are holding you in place touching you. You'd rather not see them, actually, so instead you look up at Ardyn, trying to match his gaze with a defiant glare. He's clearly enjoying this whole situation far too much already, you're not going to give him the pleasure of hearing you beg him not to hurt you on top of it. Not that he's _hurting_ you, exactly. No, it's really like the shadow-tentacle-things are _caressing_ you more than anything else. They move up your arms and legs with gentle touches that, in another context, would feel good, but like this, they only make your skin crawl. A few slip under the hem of your shirt and begin stroking your stomach. They're _warm_ for whatever reason, and something about that makes them all the creepier. You try not to move as they make their way up your abdomen, but you can't help but instinctively recoil from the touches just a little. Ardyn looks all too pleased. You have to look away from his face when one of the tentacles brushes gently over your nipple, not trusting yourself to keep a straight face. Fuck, if only he _would_ just hurt you, that might be easier to deal with. This, though, this quite nearly feels _good,_ and it's all the more awful to endure for it. You're being touched damn near everywhere, the caresses becoming firmer and more forceful by the second. You feel so utterly _exposed_ somehow, even though Ardyn's left your clothes in place thus far. You bite your lip to hold back the pathetic noise bubbling up in your throat. Suddenly, the movements of the tentacles stop. You scarcely have time to wonder what Ardyn's next move will be before he makes it. Your legs are yanked apart by the tendrils holding them, and from the darkness of the floor, which had seemed like the safest thing to stare at, another tentacle emerges, this one thick and blunt ended. You quickly close your eyes so you don't have to see it dip below your clothing and into the waistband of your underwear. You yelp at the unexpected shock of _pleasure_ that courses through you when the tentacle slides firmly against you. You're aroused, far more aroused than you thought you were, and as much as you hate it, finally being touched like this is a _relief._ Ardyn notices, of course.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" He says, the mocking lilt to his voice reigniting your rage. _Fuck_ this guy.

"Hell no," you say, truthfully. It may be turning you on, but you do _not_ like this. Ardyn just laughs and curls the tentacle between your legs just right to make you cry out again, which you hate even more. You especially hate how you have to put all your strength into resisting the urge to buck your hips into the stimulation. Additionally, you realize, to your horror, that this particular tentacle is _slick_ with something. _Fuck_. You know exactly where this is going and you do not want any part of it. For a little while longer, Ardyn seems satisfied with simply stroking you like this, but once you've gotten a hold of your voice and stilled your body he quickly tires of it.

"As enjoyable as watching you struggle with yourself is, that isn't why I came here," Ardyn says. The tentacle moves to press against your entrance, threatening to breach it, and fuck, it feels even thicker than it looked. You're trembling, and you wish it was all due to fear instead of being half anticipation. Ardyn takes a hold of your chin, tilting it up to look you in the eye again, gazing at you with an intensity you've never seen before. "I came here to _claim_ what is mine. And believe me, ____, by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember the name of that fool you call a king." You swear his smile is the cruelest thing you've ever seen. Your breath hitches in fear when you feel him press harder against your entrance. Fuck, no. No, no, no, no. That thing is so thick, and he hasn't prepared you at all, surely he can't be intending to force his way in all at--

"Ahhh!" Fuck fuck fuck fuck he _was,_ he _did_. He's several inches deep in you with just one thrust, and it's far too much, far too fast. It hurts, and he doesn't slow down, sliding even deeper inside you before pulling out to deliver a punishing thrust, and then another, until you're whimpering at every movement, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Ardyn smooths his thumb over your cheek, as if he's trying to soothe you. The gentleness in the midst of this brutality almost hurts more.

"You poor thing," he says, his voice soft, nearly a whisper. "Just look at you. Sworn to protect your so-called true king, and yet kneeling at _my_ feet instead. Tell me, how do you intend to guard your precious Noct from me when you can't even save yourself?" The mention of your King makes you remember your resolve. Your eyes snap to meet his, determination burning in your gaze. Yes, you did swear to protect him, and so you're not going to fall. Not to pain, not to pleasure, not to anything. Ardyn just laughs, though. "Such conviction. And yet, you take to _this_ so _very_ well. You're beautiful groveling on your knees for me. This is where you _really_ belong." _Fuck. This. Guy._

"I'm _not_ fucking _groveling_ for you-- ah!" Your words are cut off by a particularly harsh thrust that, in addition to being more painful than the rest of them, also managed to hit something inside you that felt just shy of incredible. You really hope Ardyn didn't notice, but his face twists into a smirk and he starts fucking into you again at that angle, hitting that spot over and over. Against your will, against all _sense,_ this is starting to feel good. Really good, even. You have to bite down on your lip again, afraid you'll make a sound that gives away just what this is doing to you.

"It hurts, doesn't it, dear?" Ardyn says sweetly.

"S-sadist," you reply, your voice shaking. Ardyn hums affirmatively.

"Indeed. But then, that would make you a masochist, wouldn't it?"

"If you're saying that I'm-- ah-- enjoying this..." You can't even manage enough control of your voice to get out a full sentence at once. It's infuriatingly humiliating.

"I am. And you are," Ardyn replies. The tentacle inside you stops its merciless thrusts for a moment to slide hard along your front wall, searching for the same spot that made you cry out before. When it finds it, it _grinds_ into it, and it feels so fucking amazing that you outright moan, loud and long. Ardyn laughs again. "Case in point." He lets go of your chin, but you keep staring at him, mortified by the sound you've just made. He resumes fucking you, though, and you can't hold his gaze for long. You swear his thrusts are even harder than they were before, and they're at the perfect angle, leaving you no choice but to continue letting out more shameful moans. Your body has somehow gotten used to this enough that the pain is more than tolerable now, giving you little to focus on besides the electric jolts of pleasure flowing through you. You find yourself almost wishing Ardyn hadn't left your mouth unoccupied; choking on his cock or even one of the damned tentacles would at least save you the embarrassment of sounding so weak... and so much like you really _are_ enjoying this.

"Beautiful," Ardyn repeats. "You are wasted on Lucis." He practically spits the last word, contempt evident in his voice. Anything you might have thought to say in defense of your kingdom vanishes when a second tentacle reaches down to stroke you. That's all it takes; you come before you can even think to fight it. Ardyn fucks you through it, and when his name thoughtlessly slips from your lips, he laughs giddily.

You expect him to do... something in the aftermath, pull out of you or demand you suck him off, something like that, but he just watches you try to catch your breath with that same smile on his face that he always has. In fact, he's still moving the tentacle inside you a little bit, which is uncomfortable with how overly sensitive you are right now. Soon enough, you're trying to squirm away from the stimulation, though you're still held in place. You look up at the source of your torment pleadingly. Ardyn smiles wider.

"You didn't think we were done, did you?" He says, making you feel as if you've been punched in the gut. That wasn't enough? Just what all will you have to endure before he _is_ done? "I haven't gotten to enjoy myself at all, and you've only come _once_. For goodness sake, you still have all your clothes on." You feel yourself being pulled backwards by the tendrils around your wrists until you're lying on your back, bound hands pinned below you. Ardyn drops down to loom over you, settling himself between your parted legs. "My dear, _dear_ ____," he says, tenderly brushing a lock of hair back from your face, "the night is so very young, and I am _far_ from satisfied."

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the ending, I probably won't be writing a sequel to this. Sorry!


End file.
